


Quarantine

by Dutchness1618



Category: The Witcher, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Quarantine, Sex, anonymous, sex with stranger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23293663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dutchness1618/pseuds/Dutchness1618
Summary: A virus spreads across the world, resulting in countries going into quarantine. Same goes for her tiny town. It’s chaos. And her father warned her about witchers.
Relationships: Geralt of Rivia / Y/N
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> A simple story about Geralt and a female (no name) in quarantine. Just to keep your mind off of what’s happening in these first months of 2020.
> 
> Contains sex scenes (F/M) and a lot of cursing/swearing.

It has been just one day since the mayor announced that the whole town would be in quarantine. For a month. 

Some people sighed with relief, some people began bickering about having no food, some began to plunder, some began to beg and flee. Needless to say, the town was in chaos. 

The virus spread like crazy. Hundreds of people fell ill. Old people almost always died while gasping for air. Young people got a slight fever but described their lungs as being “on fire”. Hospitals and infirmaries were full. Doctors, mages, healing men and women were fighting for everyone’s lifes while being infected themselves too. 

A month of no social contact, no trades going on, no big markets, no work for a lot of people ...only for those who worked at the hospitals, stores and inns...because the mayor decided that well, drunks must remain drunks, apparently. Chaos, it was.

Especially at the inn. The inn her father owned. It was full, packed to be honest. She didn’t know how to feel really. She was relieved she still had work and an income for herself and her family, especially her 2 boys but she was weary, exhausted and deep down, a bit afraid of what might come. People still came in, not caring about spreading the illness. 

Her mom did the cleaning and watched the boys, her father basically ran the inn and she ran the kitchen. Well, she and Rhiannon did. But everyday after dinner time Rhiannon left and went home to her own family. But, the inn was her family business. So work never really stopped to be honest.

The inn had 5 rooms upstairs. The mayor ordered that visitors could still rent these rooms but it must be rented for a month. And thus their rooms became their quarantine. Money needed to be paid in advance. She always thought the mayor was a complete dickhead but somehow this thought became a less prominent one as this new rule of his seemed to work out quite fine for her and her family. Late at night, after they closed, her father told her that all 5 rooms were booked. For a month. And paid in advance. They smiled together as her father grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “We will all be fine dear”. She smiled back but she was aware both of their smiles were not genuine. Deep down everyone was worried because this was not about money, after all.

Before he left to go to bed her father told her a witcher came in, two days ago. “He’s in room 5, the big one. Be cautious,... strange folk these men”. 

“I know which one is room 5, dad, now go to bed!” she laughed and rolled her eyes and her dad winked and left. 

She stared into the distance. Time for bed. The thought of waking up before sunrise the next morning seemed heavy. She smiled. One last thing. She stood up, unlaced her corset and threw it on the table. “Let’s get more comfortable because we’re already so restricted in everything” she mumbled to herself. She needed to get herself a mug. The biggest she could find. Check. She quickly scrambled through the pots and pans Rhiannon carefully placed back in the cabinets. Check. The fire was still burning. Check. 

Now. The milk. She pulled the curtain aside to check if the bottle of milk she left in storage earlier today was still there. Check. She smiled. Maybe Rhiannon left some anise somewhere but she didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. She turned around to get to the fire when the sound of a man scraping his throat to announce something filled her ears. She looked up, got up quickly, saw a man standing in the doorway of the kitchen and at that very moment she let go of the bottle. The bottle with the last milk for that day.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE!” she yelled. “What the fuck! Who are you? Why are you here? And why at this time?”

“That’s a lot of questions” a rough, deep voice answered. 

Useless questions as well because she already knew this was the witcher her father told her about. Everyone knew about witchers, especially this one. Gerard. One of the few with white hair, yellow eyes. One of many with no emotions, no feelings. 

She rolled her eyes and put her fists to her sides. “Can I help you?” she asked as he raised her eyebrows. 

He grinned. “I was looking for some milk” he said as his eyes wandered to the shattered bottle and the spilled milk on the floor. “Yes, funny” she snapped and immediately continued “this is your fault. You straight up startled me”.

“My fault? Well may..”

“I asked you before, what do you exactly want? At this hour?” while she got on her knees to clean up the mess.

“I was looking for milk. Madam”

“Madam?” she asked surprised and looked up. 

There was a silence. “Let me..” he says. He came closer, got down and picked up the pieces with her. “Don’t...don’t do that, I will get a broom”. He shrugged, got up, and put the glass in the bin. His eyes fell upon the corset, laying on the kitchen table. She swallowed. He was huge, really. His short beard was white but his face told her he wasn’t that old. Or maybe he was. He was a witcher after all. He could be hundreds of years. His shirt hung loosely and he was still wearing his leather trousers and boots. 

She looked at him. “Thanks. I do have some whiskey left. But, just to make myself clear. This is not really the custom to do, you know. You can’t come in late at night to get yourself something to drink. I know you’re in room 5 but that isn’t a free ticket to come barging into this kitchen when you want to” she explained herself as she stretched to get the bottle of whiskey from the top shelve. 

“I do know that. How much for the bottle?” 

She frowned. Somehow she expected an apology for scaring her but not this question. Her father was right after all - witchers were assholes. Be cautious.

“Oh no Gerard” she laughed. “Not the bottle. You can get a mug of it, nothing more”

He finally moved and looked down, she knew he was laughing. “Alright then. But share it with me. And...it’s.. Geralt”

“What?” she said as she got two brown mugs and poured some whiskey. “it’s Geralt, not Gerard”. Her other hand traveled to her neck, rubbing it fiercely. “Ah, alright”.

“Rough day?”

She immediately let go. “Rough week you mean”

He sighed, “I know, fuck this quarantine”. She grinned, brought mugs to the table, quickly grabbed the corset and put it on her stool and sat down on it to hide it, folding her arms in a way, just to make sure he didn’t have a full view of her breasts and hard nipples in this slip dress as the fire was slowly dimming and it was becoming more and more cold. 

He sat down on the other side, his knees widespread, leaning backwards, grabbing the mug and downing the whiskey in one gulp. He flinched when he swallowed. She frowned. “So. You think this quarantine thing is a joke then?” she asked to break the silence.

“It is. Work for me has become less and less these past few days. I don’t get it really. This disease will spread anyway. Monsters will still be here. Only the old will die, young people don’t. What’s the use of fighting it?”. His piercing yellow eyes looked at her. She laughed and snorted. “Young people do get sick. Haven’t you heard?”

“But they won’t die” he replied sternly.

“We’re not all fit witchers like you. Just..just follow the rules as the mayor ordered us to do” she replied as she yawned. She almost threw up after hearing herself say that.

“The mayor is a dick” he said as his long fingers traced the lines of the mugs, up and down. He looked at her, grinning.

“I used to agree with you on that point” she laughed. 

“What made you change your mind then?”

She chuckled. “I will tell you another time witcher, I’m tired. Enjoy another mug of whiskey, I’m not feeling it. I had my mind set on milk..you know”. She stood up, got her things and walked to the doorway. 

She turned around to take one look at him but instead she saw him right behind her, grinning, handing her the corset. “You forgot this”. Did he just move so silently? Or did she go deaf?

“Thank you”

“I’m sorry to have interrupted you like that”. She smiled and closed the door. There it was, the apology. Wasn’t that much of an asshole after all.


	2. Day 9

The cold winter made way for the very first day of spring. The inn became less and less busy. New restrictions were ordered everyday. 

Guards were now outside, surveilling through the tiny town. The elderly were ordered to stay inside, the rest were adviced not to mingle in groups. Not a lot of people were on the street but a few drunks and beggars, not following the new rules. 

She leaned outside in the doorway to take a glance outside. It was now day 9 of this quarantine and a soft cold breeze touched her skin but the sun warmed her heart. When will this shitshow end? Bells suddenly rang and when she turned around to take a look, new coffins were carried outside, just a few houses away from the inn. She swallowed.

Rhiannon was no longer coming to work. Her father had fallen ill with the virus and she had taken it upon herself to care for him. A much heavier task then cooking and cleaning the kitchen over here she thought to herself.

She shut the door and made her way to the kitchen. “These potatoes won’t peel themselves”. After a while the sound of someone chopping wood outside caught her attention. Wondering if it was her father she walked through the storage room and took a look outside. The sight of Geralt chopping big blocks of wood surprised her. 

She dried her potato covered hands in her apron and laughed. “No monsters anymore, aye?”.

He looked up, his forehead glistening in the sunlight, his sleeves rolled up, shirt loose and his hair down. He smiled. “Hi” was the only answer. 

“Who set you up to do this? My father?”

“Yes. Yes he did. Would rather wield my sword towards some monsters but at least I’m getting some coin for it” he said while getting up and putting the axe on the ground and leaning on it. He looked majestic.

“Coin? Really? He is paying you to do this?”

“Yes, well. It’s still a service” he answered. She snorted. “So he’s paying you? And you’re paying us for the room? Well well..”

He laughed while he chopped the last two blocks in half with a blow so hard, people down the street could probably hear it.  
While stacking the wood blocks away he finally replied “you know, a room is not the only thing I need. I need coin for food and other...things, as well”.

“Prostitutes? Is that what you mean?” she said while smiling and walking towards him to help him stack the blocks. 

“That’s not what I meant. Are you always this straight forward with everyone or just to witchers?” he paused.

She looked up and caught him staring at her. 

“I know your family really doesn’t like witchers. You don’t need to tell me that too” he said. Before she could say anything he got up, cleaned his hands with his shirt, revealing his abs and said “I would like to take a bath. I have coin to pay for it now. Can you make me one?”. She nodded as he firmly walked away. She watched him, taking in the sight of him. Broad shouldered, shirt dripping in sweat.

Her mother helped her getting the bath ready. The wooden tub they had was close next to the storage room and available for everyone to use. Most visitors didn’t have the money for it to be quite frank.

A loud, hard knock on the door was enough to let her and her mother jump up. She knew it was him. “Come in!!” her mother yelled. 

“Fucking witchers” she mumbled under her breath as Geralt came in.

She poured the last hot bucket of water in the tub while her mother explained to him where to find the soap and linnen to dry himself. Geralts reaction to this was as honest as her own reactions earlier that day. “I know how to bathe myself. Thank you”.

“I’m going to make the boys ready for bed” said her mum as she walked to the door. “Come on”. She waited and hesitated. “One minute” she replied. Her mother frowned and walked away. “Fine” was the last thing she heard as the door closed. The air in the room was already thick and heavy and as she turned around to face Geralt he heard his deep, raw voice say “I guess you’re telling me now that you’re sorry?” before she even opened her mouth. 

“Yes..well, I am. Look..” she began.

“Spare me this lame excuse and let me enjoy this bath before it gets cold” he snapped as he began to undress himself. 

She snickered. “Okay, if you’re going to be a dick about it then, okay, I will leave you to your bath anyway”. Before she knew it she shut the door and caught a slight glimpse of a shirtless witcher. Still an asshole. 

She shook her head, her black thick curls waving, and went upstairs to put her 2 boys to bed. This was the best moment of the day - especially during these times. The oldest one still asked her, every night, when he could visit Jamie. Jamie was his best friend and the son of the baker 2 streets away from them. Every night she gave the same answer - she didn’t know. And every night when she kissed them goodnight, closed the door and went to her own room or downstairs she heard him cry quietly. Her heart broke, every night. Things were not the same in this town.

She changed into her white night gown, brushed her hair and stared in the mirror. Then she stood up, posed and pinched the tiny rolls on her tummy. She giggled. The grey streak in her black hair was becoming more and more grey by the day. Her hard nipples peaked through the white lace on her slip dress. “Such a mum” she thought to herself.

It was dark in her room and there wasn’t an extra candle to be found. She groaned and went downstairs, quietly, on her tippy toes. She hoped the witcher would be done with his damn bath by this time, so she wouldn’t have to face him. Quietly, without a sound, she searched the storage room for the extra candle when suddenly a tiny “meow” came from a corner. She grabbed the candle she needed and tried to look around in the dark. It was Mina, their white cat. 

“Ah, Mina, hello you silly old cat, what are you doing here?” she whispered as she pet the cat on her back. Mina arched her back and curled her thick fluffy tail around her fingers. 

She looked up as she heard footsteps in the room next door. The bathing room. So he was still there. Unable to contain her curiosity she slowly walked up to the door. Surely it was locked but visitors didn’t know that there was a tiny slider so that you could peek to the keyhole.

“Should I? What took the man so long?” And there she was, peeking through the keyhole like a teenager. And she saw him. On a stool, hunched over, his face in his hands, bare feet, just a towel covering his lower body. He let out big sighs. She studied him but he didn’t move. Was he crying? He was in there for a long time.

Suddenly Mina thought it was a good idea to let out a meow while walking towards her. “Hush”, she replied to her quietly and put her index finger to her mouth. Like a cat would understand anyhow.

Geralt must’ve heard as well because footsteps came near the door. She moved fast. On her toes, back to the storage room, pretending she was still looking for candles. Mina was still meowing in the background while she heard Geralt come into the room holding an oil lamp. He was shirtless, big, deep scars on his hairy chest, his white hair still wet and slightly dripping. 

“It’s you”

She looked up, pretending to be surprised, “Well yeah, it’s me. I needed a candle. I’m sorry if Mina or me interrupted you” she said and directed her head towards the cat. “Ah. Mina” he replied and got down to pet the cat behind her ears. The unique sight of a witcher petting a cat made her smile.

There was no need to make this conversation any longer she thought and walked past the giant man. “Goodnight” she said as she walked by.

“Wait” he said with a raspy voice. “I’m sorry”.

This wasn’t exactly what she expected. She turned around to face him and suddenly she saw a man. Human. Not a witcher but just, a man. 

“Well I’m sorry too” she said as she looked down. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”

He grinned. “It’s not that easy to hurt me”

“You looked quite hurt just a few moments back though” she blurted out, revealing that she just watched him sit over there, alone, with...his emotions. His emotions? Do witcher have emotions? The man standing before her seemed to have emotions.

He blinked. “You watched me?” 

“Ehm. I just wanted to make sure you were okay” she lied. “Are you?”

He moved around uncomfortably. “No one has ever asked me that” he said and looked up at her. His yellow eyes made her shiver a bit. He suddenly seemed attractive, standing there. 

“Look, I’m sorry. My father always told me...”

“Let me guess...witchers are assholes with no emotions” he said as he came closer. 

Her face turned red. “Yes” was the only answer that came out of her mouth.

“I know what your family thinks. I know that your dad thinks I kill people. I know that you think I stink of prostitutes and steal your food.. a lot of people resent me”

“I don’t think that!” she protested. He smiled, letting her see his teeth for the first time.

“Let me tell you this, what you witnessed a few moments ago was real. I too feel lonely, especially during these times. I miss my work..” he said while swallowing what seems to be a lump in his throat. 

“I think you’re not that bad after all” her mouth said without her head thinking straight. “Not that bad?” he laughed while water drops fell down on his shoulders. “You don’t resent me?” he said while putting his hands on his hips. She grinned. “Nah. I forgot you’re human. Like me. Like us.” she said as she shook her head. He smiled. “I’m lonely too” she admitted.

There it was, silence,... again. She couldn’t bear it, never had, it was way too uncomfortable. Her feet walked away to fetch something. “Wait!”. She came back holding a blanket. 

“Aren’t you cold?” she said while handing him it. Humor is the best treatment for silence she always thought.

“I think you’re not that bad either” he said with a warm voice and grabbed her wrist. “And caring”. The tension was heavy. “And beautiful”. She blinked. “What?”

“You heard me” he whispered as he came close. Her mouth became dry and she was unable to speak, right there and then. There wasn’t much space between him and herself. He placed a hand under her chin and that’s when his lips touched hers. Instead of backing away, what she usually did when she let a man get this close, she accepted him. 

He began slowly, easy, without his tongue interfering. He stepped closer, his chest against her breasts, still hiding in her slip dress. She reacted more greedy, taking him in and wrapping her arms around his neck. His big hands found his way to her lower back. A moan left her mouth.


	3. Into day 10

Never in a million years did she picture herself with a man like this. Her mom would kill her and as for her father, he would help throw her body in the river, if they found out. 

Yet her body reacted automatically to his touch. His kiss. His scent. Lavender soap and the musky scent of masculinity. What the fuck. It was animalistic to say the least. She firmly bit his lip and he flinched ever so slightly and let out a little groan. He suddenly let loose. “You’re a fiery little woman” he groaned while coming closer for a new kiss.

She waited. “Little? Have you not looked at me?” she asked. “Plenty of times. Let’s take this to my room. If you want this. Give me your consent” he asked but he never stopped kissing her.

Hearing these words from him made her heart race and something else wet. She swallowed. “Look, I mean. You’re practically famous everywhere, everyone knows you. You’re big, handsome, muscular. I am...I am a mum, I’m jiggly, I had two kids you know, also I’m a big girl, I’m a...”

His fingers landed on her mouth. “Stop this. Stop. Give me your consent. Or not. Do you want this?”. 

She blinked. “Y-yes, yes I do want this”. And his lips were back on hers again, greedily sucking and kissing hers. They traveled down her neck, tilting her head to the side and coming back to her right ear, whispering “trust me”. Trust a witcher...

Her legs trembled a bit as she buried her face in his chest hair, which smelled of her mothers home made lavender soap. “It’s been a while”. He made her look at him “we don’t have to do this” he said. “I want this” she answered him.

She took his hand, following him holding his oil lamp, up the stairs and staring at the scars on his back. He closed and locked the door behind them while she sat down on his bed. He kneeled before her legs, parting them just a little, making her feel conscious about herself. She swallowed hard.

It seemed like he heard this. “I will be gentle” he said while moving his hands down her thighs and still looking at her. 

“Don’t. Don’t be gentle. Please.”

This was not the answer the witcher was expecting as he looked up surprised. “How long has it been? Since your husband?”

“Two years, roughly”. A silence fell.  
“I think I need this”

He nodded. “You earned this” he whispered while parting her legs more and moving his head towards her. A soft, warm tongue parted her lips down there and slid along her clitoris. She let out a big sigh and long moan before laying on her back and grabbing a fist full of his white hair. He knew exactly what to do but after a good few minutes all she wanted was him. All of him. “Geralt, come on” she breathed heavily. After tugging on his hair a few times he crawled towards her, hovering above her, leaning on his big arms. She hooked a finger on his wolf medaillon and tugged on it to bring him closer for a kiss. He slipped her dress higher and higher, then parted her legs with his knees while his hand made way to one of her breasts. He rubbed a nipple between his thumb and index finger, making her arch her back in return. A groan came from him as he took it in his mouth and let his tongue do the rest.

She felt the bulge between his legs. Hard, throbbing, visible, big. She fumbled with the linnen around his waist. “Take it off. It’s stuck, I want it off, I want to see all of y...”

“Hush woman. Stop talking so much” he said through gritted teeth. “Your parents will hear you. Just...just, enjoy this”

He got on his knees, towering over her, took the linnen off, threw it on the ground and positioned him self back between her legs. 

A feeling of warmth, lust and readiness entered her body. “Come on. Fuck me like you mean it” she thought to herself but she couldn’t say it out loud. “Fuck, can witchers read minds?” was the next thought.

He came back closer to her, she inhaled sharply before he kissed her hard as if his arousal suddenly caught more fire. 

He grinned and started moving. Like an ocean wave the slowly entered her. The first thrusts were sharp and instant flashbacks to the mayor came to mind. She swallowed hard, he didn’t seem to notice. His wolf medaillon felt cold against her skin as he buried his face in the nape of her neck. She was aware her hair smelled like smoke and bacon, he must’ve smelled it too, though he didn’t seem to care. 

It had been a long time since she had been intimate with someone and somehow it worried her, but honestly.. it felt good with him. Her hips bucked against his as an answer.

Digging her nails deep in his back, making him moan with pleasure and feeling him throb heavily. “Fuck” he mumbled.

“Been a long winter?” she said and couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Hmm”. He pulled out, came up on his knees and looked at her with his piercing yellow eyes, hovering above her. 

She didn’t want him to look at her like it. “Don’t look at me like that”.

“Like what?” he asked and frowned with one eyebrow, revealing a cheeky smile. 

“Like..eh. I don’t know” and before she ended her sentence he grabbed her hips, pulled her up on her knees as well, close to him. He kissed her earlobes, swirling his tongue around it. Her hand found the back of his head, her fingers tangled up in his white hair. 

He stopped, opened his eyes and that was when she saw it. Lust, pure lust. He grabbed her, pulled her on top of him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Sweet Lord, he was big, in every way. And she wasn’t a particular small girl but she felt tiny. 

She could feel him beneath her wetness, a big hand pulled her hair and her head tilted to the side. “Ah”.

“Look, look down” he breathed into her ear. “Watch me as I take you” forcing her head down to see their bodies tangled up and him entering her again. The room was warm cause the fireplace in the corner was still crackling.

She moaned, it being the only sound in the room besides from the fire, letting her head fall backwards. She was above him, his face between her breasts, breathing hard against them. 

She moved her hips, he thrusted hard, groaning, his big hands gliding down her spine, grabbing her buttocks firmly. 

She was there, almost. But she needed more. Something more. There it was, she felt it. Her body felt it, his thrusts became harder, more violent, his breathing deeper. Did he just...? Does he leave her lingering for more? Will he finish alone? 

Thoughts shot through her head as she opened her eyes wide. A big, muscular arm came between their touching bodies, finding its way down. She felt his long fingers rubbing her, just in time and just enough to get her there. They both breathed heavily. She looked down, she looked up, he shuddered, opening his mouth slightly. His deep voice trembled a bit. “Fuck” he groaned as he hid face between her breasts. She held him close, his arm squashed between their bodies. 

She came. Hard. She shook, trembled, as he crashed into her and finished just right after. It took a while before he removed the arm and held her, on his lap. She hugged him, holding him close. “Did you wait for me?” she asked, still a bit out of breath. 

“For fucks sake, yes. I’m not an asshole” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to keep myself busy. It’s simple, without too much Witcher world names and details. Let me know if you want more.


	4. Day 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to add more because, I wanted to.

It wasn’t until five days later till she saw him again. He had left the bed empty early that particular morning, leaving only his warmth on the mattress next to her. She had opened her eyes, lazily, and looked up from her pillow to see him getting dressed and packing his belongings. Being very sleep drunk she mumbled “we’re all in...quarantine, where are you going?”.

He grinned, “will visit you again, don’t worry”. She wasn’t worried at all - more confused. And..visit? Visit. Who did he think she was? A whore? She closed her eyes with force as she heard the door close quietly. Maybe, maybe he was an asshole after all.

Five days later she made her way to the stairs, holding a tray of mugs, cutlery and plates. The sound of her mums broom sweeping the crumbly floors of the rooms was the only sound in the inn. Or so she thought. 

When she placed her foot on the last step and looked up, she froze. Two voices she knew all too well seemed to have a secretive, deep discussion including whispers and mumbling.

“Ah, dear! There you are!” the mayor yelled suddenly, breaking the quiet discussion, while holding up his mug of ale in one hand.

“Dear?” a confused Geralt of Rivia asked, sitting on the other end of the table, to keep his distance from him. He frowned, his dark eyebrows lifting his scar on his forehead. His eyes fixed on her.

“Wondered where you were! Your dad told me you were busy. Well anyway, ever met a Witcher, dear? Meet Geralt of Rivia” the mayor rambled on.

She snorted, still holding the tray. “I have met him. Geralt does rent a room here so we know each other” she said while coming closer to get their mugs.

“Oh we’re getting close now, alright. Be cautious dear cause, as the mayor of this town, you never know where my hands have bee...”

“Oh do shut up!” she snapped at him.

A big, tanned hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it. She gasped as he brought his mouth near her ear. Geralt rose in his seat.

“Don’t forgot who you’re talking to...dearest. I can bring you and this place down as quickly as I raised you all” he said through clenched teeth. 

In the corner of her eye she saw Geralt clenching his fists and swallowing, clearly doubting whether or not to interfere. 

Before she could open her mouth, the mayor let go of her wrist, smiling devilish like nothing happened. He continued his conversation.

“Well now. Got to teach them women a bit from time to time now, aye Geralt?” 

The Witcher didn’t say a thing, he only stared.

She stood up straight, dust off her apron with her hands, cleared her throat, held her chin up and asked “do you, do you...gentlemen want something else to drink?” 

The mayor grinned, stroking his short black beard and then laughed. “I would...like that. Let me take a piss first”. He stood up, smiled and walked away. “Be right back!” he yelled 

She nodded and quickly turned around, feeling Geralt’s gaze fixed on her. 

Arriving in the kitchen finally gave her the chance to take a deep breath. She got hold of the kitchen table, placing both of her hands on it and leaning forward, bowing her head and letting out a big sigh. The door of the kitchen opened and as she stared at the kitchen floor she replied “I know mum, I know...I’m alright”.

“You sure about that? You two looked like you had unfinished business” Geralt’s voice replied back. 

She jerked up, not expecting him there. “You’re not supposed to be here, I told you before. Witcher.”

“Oh come on”

She turned around, turning her back on him, letting her shoulders down. “Please go”

“No” he stated firmly.

She sighed. “Heavens. You’re so stubborn” she mumbled as she start placing the dishes in a bucket.

“Now. What was that about?” he asked again.

She stopped, stared at the wall before her and yelled “will you PLEASE leave my kitchen, Geralt?”

She heard him move nervously. A big warm hand grabbed hers, the exact spot where the mayors hand grabbed her and turned her around. 

“Tell me and I will take care of it” he said aggressively while looking her in the eye. 

To be honest, she didn’t know what she wanted. Yes she want him to interfere, make the mayor leave this place. Yet she didn’t want Geralt in her kitchen as well. She didn’t want a scene. Tears welled up and she swallowed.

“I know he hurt you”

-“How do you know?” she snapped at him.

“I can sense it, I can feel it. It’s quite obvious too”

He still held her wrist in his hand as she trembled while looking at his face. Heavens he was beautiful. His hair was down, he looked clean, clean shaven as well. No beard anymore. The scar on his face bright red like he just slayed a beast yesterday. It didn’t matter, he was still the most handsome she ever encountered. Rugged, rough, his scent smelled like wood chips and whiskey.

In a matter of seconds he kissed her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, he lifted her, placing her bottom on the wooden counter behind them. She unlaced and unbuttoned his pants, while he kissed her neck quite greedy.

He breathed hot into her ear. “Use me to release your anger, ...do it”.

She parted her legs, hastily pulled all her skirts up and grabbed him by his shirt to get him closer, making him groan cause of the unexpectedness. 

“No” he said and swiftly turned her around, placing her belly against the cold counter. “I want you like this”. A hand fumbled under her skirts till he found what he was desperately looking for. 

“He will...he will hear us” she panted while he rubbed her gently. “Yeah well..let him hear this” he answered with a groan. 

She felt the strength in his long fingers but he didn’t use force. “Geralt, come on...please” she practically begged.

While hugging her from behind he paused, then placed his hand over her mouth and lowered into her. She moaned hard against the warmth of his hand when at the same time he grabbed her hair. He trusted with force, panting hard. She didn’t know whether or not to be ashamed as she felt her spit drooling from the corner of her mouth, into the palm of his hand.

For a while only this happened and only moans echoed through the kitchen.


	5. Day 15

He had entered the inn from the kitchen as he told her to wait a few moments before coming back in. He adjusted his clothes, his hair still down and making sure to leave no sign of the situation that happened in the kitchen only a few moments ago.

She ran her fingers, nails filed down short, though her hair as she sighed. Wine, the richest and oldest her father had stored was probably what the mayor wanted. With the slightest hesitation she fetched the oldest bottle she had from the storage room while she groaned. She held the bottle up, before her face, discovering she still trembled. Her father wouldn’t be too happy about this - especially when he would find out who exactly would drink this. 

With her foot she opened the kitchen door, balancing the tray with her hands. The thin smell of stale ale found its way to her nostrils when entering the centre of the inn again.

“For fucks sake! How long did it take for you to get me that bottle?” the mayor laughed. “I’m kidding dear, come”. 

“Not too close!” he warned when she did come closer to the table. “Not too close. Let’s leave that for...another time, shall we?”

Geralt sat on the other side of the table, his face surprisingly emotionless, his posture straight...stiff as a board to be exact, staring at the mayor. Shoulders broad but down, relaxed. Like nothing ever happened. She cleared her throat as she came closer, feeling the Witcher’s semen trickling down her leg. 

She cursed under her breath causing Geralt to slightly turn around, raise an eyebrow and look up at her. She kept her eyes down, focussing on not spilling their best wine.

“You know master Witcher, I’ve heard a lot about your...adventures”

Without moving or even batting an eyelid he looked at the mayor. “I know you did. You already told me that”.

“Hmm, I thinks this all might be getting to my head then” he sniggered to himself while at the same time looking down into his mug.

“What is it you want from me, mayor?”

The mayor looked up, straight at him. “I want you to look for my brother, Geralt”, he answered firmly. 

She froze. His brother. She swallowed and caught a glimpse of Geralt.

He grinned, shook his head and look up. “I don’t do missing persons. You know this. You know of my so called adventures..”

“I know who you are and I know what you do. And I think you’re the best man for this case. I will pay you, significantly..”

“I’m sure you and your town will be needing a lot of coin during this quarantine” Geralt snapped.

It was time. Time to slowly and quietly back away from this conversation. 

“You. You might want to hear this too. You know, as he was your husband”. She froze again. He was pointing at her. 

“What?” a confused Geralt asked. His eyes narrowed as he look at the mayor first, then her.

“Your husband didn’t die then? You’re still married?”

A deep, dark sense of nervousness sprang in her belly. She felt like throwing up. “Yes, no..I mean”. Her words came out like a stutter, like her own 2 year old did sometimes. 

After Geralt it was time for the mayor to seem confused. “How does he know all this?”. His question was directed at her. 

She felt like she was drowning. The water was up her lips, the air was damp and heavy. “I don’t know how to explain all this” she began.

“How about you tell Geralt how he went missing and you didn’t even look for him? ONCE? And now you’re telling everyone he’s dead?”

Geralt, still sitting on the other side of the table, rolled his eyes while sighing deep. He leaned forward on the table. 

“Tell me what’s going on between you”

“I should ask the fucking two of you that! You seem to know each other more than I expected!” the mayor yelled with force. He stood up, turned around, paced through the inn.

“We don’t! I don’t know him personally” was her answer without looking at the Witcher.

“I will tell you what happened, Geralt. This whore first was about to marry me. Then, then she fucked my twin brother and married him instead. Six years later he is gone, MISSING. Nowhere to be found. And she didn’t even look for him. I find that very very suspi...”

“Shut up Nagan! I have nothing to do with it!”. Warm tears were streaming down her face, surprising her. It must’ve been more than 6 moons ago since she last cried. She tried to wipe them away but it was useless as they kept coming. 

The mayor walked up to her, circled around her like a cat does when he sees his owner. She swallowed as she knew how unpredictable he could be.

“I should keep my distance in times like these” he said calmly, with a croaking voice “but my curiosity got the better of me”. He suddenly wrapped his arm around her throat from behind, as fast as lightning. For a few moments she thought he was about to choke her.

She couldn’t see anything other than the inn ceiling because of how he held her. She struggled but it was in vain.

The sound of Geralt quickly getting up from his chair made her clear he was still here and ready to interfere. She cried. To her surprise he pulled up her skirts with one hand.

“Stop that!” Geralt yelled.

One finger dipped into her. “Ahhhhh exactly what I thought” he exclaimed. Another two fingers rubbed her firmly. She wriggled under his touch.

He brought up the three fingers for everyone to see. They were dripping in a slick, white substance. She swallowed. “I guess the Witcher is under your spell too. Just like you did with me and my brother, you fucking who..”

“Let her go” 

“Tell me you’ll do it Geralt ..and I will let her go. Tell me you will look for my brother and find out what happened so we can bring this bitch to trial. Other wise I will kill her on this very spot and take matters in my own hands. I mean it”. A sharp, cold object pushed against her ribcage. 

“I...didn’t do it” she managed to squeeze out.

“I’m not the man you want for this job, mayor. I hunt monsters. Let her go!”

“Apparently you fuck them as well” he grinned. She moved in his arms. “Say you’ll do this”. The cold metal pushed into her skin. “Geralt, do it. Please. For me. For everyone.”

The silence was deafening. 

“Alright”


End file.
